Theresa Duncan didn't have readers, she had fans

I had never heard of The Wit of the Staircase until this post on L.A. Observed. Right after reading of her disappearance on L.A. Observed, I headed over to Duncan's site, hoping to find some new and fresh writing. What I found was disappointing.

I've wondered since how could Duncan's readers not see right through her literary b.s.? I noticed it immediately. How could supposedly smart readers (who also happen to be writers) like Ron Rosenbaum and Kevin Rodderick (who apparently couldn't tell if Duncan's L.A. Lunar society was real and called the Wit "a personal favorite of mine") be so easily bamboozled? Reader Poussin has some thoughts:

Duncan didn't have readers. She had fans. She had girl crushes, lesbian crushes, young male crushes, crusty old git crushes, etc. Read her comments, where she permitted them. Often you will see remarks about her looks. This is why there are so many defenders. It isn't about plagiarism to them. Beauty will always ease misdeed. There are as many excuses as the day is long. How many excuses have we seen already?

See, Duncan was perfect for people. She filled a need in their desperations, however she did that. There was a sexual subtext to much of her fandom. She was what these fans wanted to be, and they felt golden for having found her. She wrote into that myth, using her charmed Venice lifestyle in funky hippie cottage, darling boyfriend, expensive habits and tastes.

It's true, Duncan often posted photos of herself but did she really seduce her readers? Is this why it's so hard for them to admit they were duped? Why do so many tie their identity to this woman? Why do they personally feel insulted when her fake front is exposed? Why do they take their anger out on those who expose the truth?

Ron Rosenbaum: wake up and smell the plagiarism

Inspired by Ron "If She Plagiarized" Rosenbaum, a reader has sent more proof of Duncan's cribbing.

From Duncan's perfumey post Dzing! Perfume And My Carnival Night:

Mikhail Bakhtin is a favorite critic who elucidated a favorite author, Francois Rabelais. Bakhtin's writings on the comic violence, bad language, exaggeration, satire, and shape-shifting of Rabelais are a prime example of one genius of elucidation reaching back across an expanse of time to find his component genius of expression.

For the Russian Bakhtin, the Frenchman Rabelais is the greatest example of what he terms "carnivalesque" literature. Ever concerned with the liberation of the human spirit, Bakhtin claims that carnivalesque literature — like the carnivals themselves — broke apart oppressive and mouldy forms of thought and cleared the path for the imagination and component genius of expression

From Wikipedia on 9/2/07:

Bakhtin recognises that the tradition of carnival dwindled in Europe following the Renaissance and the eventual replacement of feudalism with capitalism. As a result, he says, the public spirit of the carnival metamorphosed into the 'carnivalesque': that is, the spirit of carnival rendered into literary form. The person who, existing on the cusp of this social upheaval, most fully represented this spirit was François Rabelais, and the book which holds the greatest purchase on Bakhtin's imagination is Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel. The comic violence, bad language, exaggeration, satire, and shape-shifting which fill this book are, for Bakhtin, the greatest example of carnivalesque literature. Ever concerned with the liberation of the human spirit, Bakhtin claimed that carnivalesque literature — like the carnivals themselves — broke apart oppressive and mouldy forms of thought and cleared the path for the imagination and the never-ending project of emancipation.

Bakhtin suggests that carnivalesque literature also became less common as the increasingly privatised world of modern, individualistic capitalism took hold. However, he points to some notable exceptions: most importantly Fyodor Dostoevsky, but also (in a brief note)Ernest Hemingway.

Theresa Duncan featured fan of the day

From time to time here, we'd like to highlight some of the Wit's fans. Here is Ron Rosenbaum:

"...Well I didn’t know her, personally, but I felt I knew her from two years of reading her blog The Wit of the Staircase.

Her name was Theresa Duncan and she was the intellectual glamour girl of the web. Brilliant, erudite, beautiful (she looked like Kate Moss who was, unsurprisingly one of her obsessions). I loved her blog I knew when my brain was weary with the conventionalities of news and politics on the Web, tired of immersion in my own work I could always find new intellectual and sensual stimulation in The Wit of the Staircase. And by sensual I don’t mean the glamour shots of Theresa, which she understandably had a weakness for, but that she was devoted to articulating her passions for sensual pleasures—her posts on perfumes for instance were sublime renderings of the wordless in words.

She had directed an admired short film A History of Glamour, she had a boyfriend, a rising star artist named Jeremy Blake, whom she often collaborated with and promoted. She seemed to have everything . And now they’re both dead."

In light of what's been reported on this blog and here, does Rosenbaum still feel the same about Duncan? I'm glad he could find intellectual stimulation through Duncan's sloppy cut-and-paste posts and links to Kate Moss stories*. But c'mon Ron, you were essentially reading Wikipedia! I'd rather believe that you weren't actually reading The Wit of the Staircase and just faked that you were in order to seem cool. You hastily posted a tribute, claimed to be a fan. Now you know better, right? Theresa Duncan Central is giving you a chance to back pedal. Take it Ron! Renounce your faith in the Wit of the Staircase. Announce that you're an apostate. We'll forgive you.



*
Is there any subject more boring, dull or mind numbing than Kate Moss?

A tribute blog to Theresa Duncan

Well, it was bound to happen. Theresa Duncan's "children" have started a tribute blog to their dearly-departed, demented plagiarist. The group blog Children of the Staircase is "a place where Theresa's admirers can post items, scents, musings, or images that they think are especially Theresa Duncan-esque or that inspire them."

Perhaps someone can explain how to post a scent over the internet. The first scent that comes to mind when thinking of Duncan is "fishy." I'd post something in the cod family. Yes, definitely something cod-liver-y. Preferably reheated.

Children of the Staircase write:

We are not trying to duplicate "Wit of the Staircase," which would be impossible. No one can ever replace Theresa's sparkling writing and wit. But she inspired us and continues to inspire us so we'd like to use this blog as a virtual bulletin board on which to capture scattered pearls.

Actually, you'd be surprised. It's pretty easy to duplicate Duncan's writing, Children of the Staircase. I'm going to give try. A-hem! [clearing throat] Here's my Duncanesque quote of the day. It goes something like this:

"Old Dan Tucker" is a popular American song. Its origins remain obscure; the tune may have come from the oral tradition, and the words may have been written by songwriter and performer Dan Emmett. The blackface troupe the Virginia Minstrels popularized "Old Dan Tucker" in 1843, and it quickly became a minstrel hit, behind only "Miss Lucy Long" and "Mary Blane" in popularity during the antebellum period. Mr. Wit and I often hum the tune to Old Dan Tucker when we're sitting in his studio waiting for his agent to call with news of another spectacular sale. Said agent's name is Dan of course and there's something about Dan's name, his sweet, mellifluous below the Mason-Dixon line drawl when he calls to say "sooooooled anahtha pahnting, Jerahmy!" that brings to mind this haunting folks pre-pre-punk melody. Perhaps Mr. Wit and I are artists who long for a time when agriculture was the major economic activity and the CIA and mind manipulators did not lurk in alleyways and canals. Back then sugar production, in particular, required large amounts of land, labor, and capital, and it was along the fertile river bottoms of the Mississippi delta that one could find the grand, extensive plantations commonly associated with the antebellum South.Yes, Mr. With and I love our canal cottage, but on some nights, when gardenias bloom and dogs howl, we long for the lush gardens and ornate mansions of our dual and complex vision's imaginary South. Sugarcane heavy air mixed with a slave lover's musky sweat, rumpled bed strawmattressy mess sunk down in the center, cramped shared quarters, books read by candlelight, a punk Scarlett O'Hara betrayed by desire, taffeta and manure on the heels of her boots.

Theresa Duncan's blog to stay up "forever"

Per L.A. Times:

According to Raymond Doherty, a friend of Duncan's who is now maintaining the site, "the plan is to keep it up forever."